


Tomorrow

by ArchRose



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Dreams, F/M, Humor, Interspecies Romance, Sexy Times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-20
Updated: 2013-10-20
Packaged: 2017-12-29 22:02:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1010634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchRose/pseuds/ArchRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shepard just can’t seem to fall asleep. A seemingly endless set of questions with no answers prevent her from the slumber she so desperately needs. So she tries to talk herself into sleep, letting her imagination take control. Time frame is during ME2, but at no particular date, and from femShep’s perspective: all in her mind. Multiple implied pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tomorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Just an idea in my head to help get the creative juices flowing on another project. This is all from femShep’s brain: talking to herself without actually voicing it. Expect lots of swearing. Shep’s a soldier. They swear. A LOT. And seeing how they keep it pretty minimal in the game, she’s going to be a sailor in her head. And sexy moments because this is Shep trying to sleep. What better way than to think of hot, steamy, sex.
> 
> Oh and BioWare owns all. I’m just poking into their playground.

* * *

 

 

Why did they put a window over my bed? If this is some psychological bullshit to get me to confront my death, it’s not working. I’d rather get the Carnifex under my pillow and blow a hole through it.

.

..

And then suffocate all over again.

*sighs*

Shit. I am royally fucked up.

Can’t sleep. Can barely keep down food. I might be a robot with all of the tech they crammed into me. Pretty sure I’m not an AI. Almost positive. My mental facilities are still my own. And I don’t believe AI’s can dream. Well neither can robots, so I guess that rules that one out.

Why does my body feel so heavy in this bed? My arms are almost like lead. Probably the window screwing with my mind. Or the exhaustion from the constant go-go-go.

I really should sleep. That would help remove some of the ache in my shoulder. The right one. Because _that_ will ever go away.

What time is it? Oh-two-hundred.

.

..

…

I will never be able to read a clock in anything but military time.

Hmm. Wonder how Tali is going to react seeing us today. I hope she’s still not mad. Not that she really was in the first place. Confused is more like it. She has a right to be. They all do.

I hope she’s okay.

Of course she is. It’s Tali. Girl is as stubborn as I am.

But will she want to see me? Do I even have the right to ask those questions? I mean, my friends have all moved on. If they’re ever my friends anymore…

I really should stop worrying about these things. Everyone is going to be surprised. I came back from the dead. Real dead. Not fake dead. It’s still strange. I can’t be _that_ important to have wasted so much money on to keep me from the grave. I’m sure there are thousands of soldiers Cerberus could have trained to send through the relay and produce the same results.

So why me?

Why?

And why the hell is it only oh-two-ten?

Feels like an hour should have passed by now.

Okay Shepard. Arms at your sides. Covers up. Close your eyes and sleep. Think of stupid sheep and start counting down.

100.

99.

98.

97.

96.

.

..

Who’s dumb idea was it to count sheep anyway? Why sheep? Sheep are not animals that I would associate with asleep. Maybe a sloth. You at least feel a bit lazy when you watch them as they do nothing. Is it because they are soft and fluffy?

And now I’m starting to think like a 5 year old girl.

Shep. Stop thinking. You’re supposed to be sleeping.

You will not be a slave to the voice in your head and you will get rest. Just close your eyes, ignore the giant window overhead. Relax. Deep breath. In and out. Imagine sitting on the beach. The sun on your face, even with the gallon of sunscreen you need to bathe in before you head out. But think about how relaxing the warmth is. And the sounds of the waves prickling against the shore. The cool, rich feeling of the sand between your feet. Peace.

Blissful…

               quiet…

                               relaxing…

                                                     peace.

And…………….sleep!

.

..

…

..

.

Damn. Thought that might work.

Okay. New plan. What else can help me fall asleep aside from drugs? Doctor C. is not winning that battle. I’m sure she rather that I get normal, natural sleep, not a pill-induced one.

So sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

Sleep.

S. L. E. E. P.

Nope. Repeating it does not help.

Maybe there’s something on the extranet that is incredibly boring that I can read. Except that I tried that two nights ago and it failed.

I could call up Mordin and ask him to recite all of the bones in the human body? He might still be up at this hour.

…but that would prompt him to notify Chakwas and I’ll be back to square one.

And can’t say that exercise has really helped out. We’ve been on missions non-stop. The few breaks in-between I have been in the gym burning off the tension so I don’t lash out against the crew. I don’t know why I’ve been so high strung lately. This isn’t like me. Not that I’ve always been carefree and easygoing, but it seemed effortless to talk to people before. Probably because they are all Cerberus employees. Except Garrus. And Mordin. And Zaeed, even though he’s getting a fat ass paycheck out of it. And Kasumi, and another nice paycheck. And Jack. But even in her rampage of “I hate Cerberus,” it’s not as simple as it was. I’m probably better company with Grunt than anyone else on the ship.

.

..

Oh and Joker. How could I forget about him? He’s not a Cerberus flunky. I need to have my head checked. But not here. Someplace safe and away from this ship. EDI will just send the log to the Illusive Man and I’ll be fucked.

Joker…I wish there was something I could say or do to get him to stop beating himself up.

It’s not his fault I died. I made that decision for myself. Part of the duty as captain of the ship is to go down with her.

Fucked up, but true.

Maybe the next time we’re at the Citadel I can get a gift. He still likes Jenison Number 45, right? And I’ll brown bag the latest Fornax for him. At least it’ll be worth the chuckle.

And how the hell did I get on this tangent? What time is it now?

Oh-two-twenty.

Well. Shit.

Passing time. Not happening. Must sleep.

.

..

.

I wonder if that window is there as a motivation from Cerberus? ‘ _Do your job Commander or there will be consequences_.’ And that damn thing is my constant reminder to play nice.

It doesn’t help me get to sleep any faster.

Okay Shep. You are allowed to think for a moment and not go off into a random stream of conscious. What can I do to help me fall asleep?

.

..

…

….

Sex.

….

…

..

.

I have issues.

Fornax immediately leads to sex. Okay maybe that’s normal for anyone that reads the mag. It’s not like I have an alien fetish. Not that there is anything wrong with wanting to be with a different species…wait. Why am I trying to justify this to myself? I already know where I stand on this.

But I can’t stroll up to the first man on the ship and ask if they want to hook up. Fuck that.

Not literally.

If I did it would undermine all of my authority. ‘ _Hey, the Commander is open for business!_ ’

Yeah. Reputation down the drain in a flash. I can’t let that happen. I need these people to see me as a leader. Not another horny private on shore leave. Besides, it’s not like there’s anyone on the ship who is worth the effort. Jacob has the abs, but there’s something about his smile that weirds me out. Tolerable, but not worth the effort. And he’s Cerberus. Very important. Will not screw a guy that works for Cerberus. Ever.

Everyone else on the ground crew is either past my age of interest, a species with no sex drive, or female. Or Krogan. Though there is Garrus. At least he doesn’t have ties to Cerberus. He’s doing this with me not for them.

Hmm.

Garrus.

I know it only feels like it’s been two months since I last saw him, but I missed him. Seems like the only one who gets me. Didn’t question any of this…stuff. Well, he did, but he didn’t. Knew I was right and signed up without flinching. He really has become the closest thing to family I’ve ever had.

And why am I thinking about Garrus right now? I should be focusing on men. Um. Human men.

Because Garrus is still a male.

I don’t know about Turian standards, but he’s pretty sharp in comparison. Strong jaw line. Tall. The colony markings accentuate his face. And his eyes.

Okay this is getting weird.

Back to Humans.

Which there are none on this ship that is worth looking at to conjure up good sleepy-time visions.

There’s Joker. If it weren’t for his bones that could be an interesting option. He’s not bad on the eyes. And the self-deprecating, sarcastic humor keeps me entertained. But I’d break him. No question. Three seconds in and he’d be in the medbay. Not to mention the daily encounters. I can deal with the occasional awkward moments, but not every day. Of course I would be the one thinking of the non-existent sex fling. Not him. Still awkward.

Fine then. We’ll just use the ones I can think of that are not on this ship.

How about Bailey?

Eh.

Well he seems sensible and he’s not full of himself. Capable and about as dependable as a C-Sec officer can be, given his position. But I don’t know. He seems complacent. I think after a date or two we wouldn’t have anything to talk about before it immediately went to “who’s taking the kids to soccer practice today?”

Pass.

It’s my dream time. I’m going to get the fantasy.

.

..

…

It doesn’t help that most of my male encounters have been military or job related, and can’t show a hint of personality. I could pick a holo-actor, but where’s the fun in that? I want to pretend sex with someone I know. Making the encounters that much more humorously awkward.

I have a strange sense of what’s fun.

So who’s Human on the list?

Kaidan.

Probably the best choice. He is ridiculously handsome and he doesn’t know it. Which makes him all the more desirable. How many women, hell even some of the men, pined over him on the SR-1? And he was oblivious to it. He’s sensitive and kind when others wouldn’t be. Stealing the ship to get to Ilos, when everyone else was ignoring me, he was the only one to give two shits about how I was feeling. Damn, I’m getting giddy just thinking about the hitch in his smile, and the way he blushes whenever we talked about anything personal.

Why did he have to be such a dick hole on Horizon?

It’s not like I had a choice in coming back from the dead. And if he cared so damn much, he should have came after me. He had intel. He knew I was out there. He could have found me, and we could have talked. Worked things out.

But nope. Dick hole move. Blame me and would not listen to logical reasoning.

I think I can work with this. Kaidan is pissed at me. Might still hold feelings for me even though I never reciprocated them. And the whole Cerberus thing. That leads to rough, angry sex. My imagination can make it happen.

Okay Kaidan. Show me what you’ve got.

.

..

.

He stalked me down to Omega. Apparently his words on Horizon weren’t enough. He had so much more to say, but didn’t want to embarrass me or himself in front of my team. So he sent that letter, thinking it would be a start. But he wanted to see me and clear the air.

He was able to find out from Liara, most likely, that I was making another trip to the space station and took that as his opportunity.

I see him from the corner of my eye as I’m leaving Afterlife. He looks determined, but not confrontational as he walks up to me. He wants a few minutes to just talk. Okay. Sure. But not here. Someplace quiet. We walk in silence, but his eyes never leave my face. Almost like he’s scanning it to make sure it’s really me. He shies away each time I turn and catch him watching me, but then goes back to staring. We find an alleyway far out of anyone’s reach. A quick scan of the perimeter and it’s quiet, isolated, and not teaming with mercs. Already a vast improvement for Omega.

I lean up against the wall while he stands at attention, just like the Alliance taught him. But he doesn’t say anything. He’s still watching my face. His eyes grow softer with each passing minute and I can’t help but feel my heart soften under his gaze. Just as I’m about to speak, he apologizes.

I’m shocked. It’s not something I expected from Kaidan. I didn’t think he would yell at me, but I know he felt hurt, possibly betrayed, at the turn of events.

But he’s sorry. And I’m at a loss on what to say next.

I’m still in my own head that I completely blanked out on him stepping closer into my personal space and running a hand against my cheek.

He’s been an idiot. He’s had feelings for me for years and he almost let the things on Horizon make a mess again. But not this time.

His mouth brushes against mine. Soft. Luscious. He likes to suck on the lower lip before stepping back. I rattle off a few things, again mention that Cerberus is the only one willing to do anything about the colonies. The fight is much bigger than the Alliance, and he needs to see it. He chews at his left cheek and tries to look away. He still despises Cerberus. I don’t blame him. I do too. I should have stayed dead. But they want to stop the Reapers. No one else does.

And then his eyes changed. A fire lights up in his stare. His body presses roughly against mine and into the wall. It doesn’t take long for me to realize what’s happening. He’s still pissed that I’m working with Cerberus. He says I shouldn’t be with them; that I can make a difference back where I belong. He’s almost yelling at me now about the pain he’s been through. Now that I’m here, he sees me, I’m in front of him…he needs me. He wants to show me why it’s good to be with the Alliance.

I won’t stop you Kaidan. Show me what I’m missing out on.

His hands fly back to my face, as his lips devour mine. My hands grasp at his armor, popping at the seals along his chest plate as he continues to feverously press his mouth to mine. He tells me between breaths how much he missed me. How much the galaxy needs me. His fingers tear off my chest armor as if it were tissue paper. Palms roughly pushing at my breasts and I can’t suppress the painful moan that leaves my mouth. Oh, he’s good at the angry sex thing. He wants to punish me for leaving him and going to the enemy. I can handle that. I hitch a leg up to wrap around his waist and pull him into my body. The teasing grunt he releases as his pelvis makes contact with mine. Somewhere I dispensed my gloves and fist my hands into his hair, which feels as silky as it looks, the dark locks running through my fingers. Something he seems to like by the way he’s panting into my mouth. Or maybe it’s the way my body feels under his touch. He’s clearly liking something if the action below is any indication.

I make a comment that he might need me more than the Alliance right now, feeling the bulge in his under suit after moving away his hip plates.

The clattering of his armor on the ground, jostles him and he looks back at me with trepidation. He grasps my hands and forces them into the wall, but not with the same intensity as he was showing before. He tries to kiss me again, but it’s not right. That irritation from before is more subdued. He’s panting softly.

He calls me Commander. Not my first name. Not Shepard.

He can’t seem to get past calling me that and my stupid brain has to ask him what he is trying to prove. I want him to take me roughly, to show me that Alliance training in all of its dirty ways.

And then…he has to ask me if that was an order.

Not in the porno way that I wanted my imagination to go to.

Nope.

He asks me in his insecure, timid manner. His head to the side and his eyes uncertain.

.

..

…

….

…..

…way to fail on the scenario Shep. Not the worse fake encounter, but that was sad. And now I feel bad for dick hole Alenko. Ugh. This is what happens when you don’t get laid for years; the sexy make-believe dreams do nothing to stimulate and fail to contribute to a good night’s rest.

And we’re at, let’s see, oh-two-thirty. Brilliant.

Flopping your arm over your head is not going to help you fall asleep. You need to focus on getting sexed up in your fantasy because that will get you at least two hours of sleep. Maybe three.

.

..

…

..

.

Fuck it. Human’s are failing me. Going with Garrus. I should have went with the first one to pop in my mind. He’s my friend and he would willingly give himself to this task to help me out. At least I know he’s trustworthy, loyal. Compassionate.

Maybe he’d be too freaked out with his talons ripping into me?

That’s kind of cute. Thinking of Garrus being all shy and blushy as he tries to be gentle with me. Do Turian’s blush? Probably not. And he’d be too proud to admit it if he did.

I bet they don’t cuddle either. All the more adorable if I can get the logistics to work in my head.

Hell, now I’m blushing at the possibilities. But cute, cuddly, and adorable do not equal sexy times.

So…

What’s sexy about my Turian?

And since when did I start considering him a possession. Bad form Shep. Okay. Sexy Garrus. Sexy Garrus. Just blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind.

.

..

His voice.

Well most Turian voices are nice. The way they seem to roll into their duel-tones so fluidly. But Garrus’ was always different. I know he’s not flirting with me, but there’s a certain pitch that he uses that almost sounds like a purr. And he does it only with me. If velvet made a sound, that’s what Garrus’ voice is like. Imagining him carrying out my name with a cool confidence, taking my hand and pulling me close to let the vibrations of his vocal cords permeate my skin…yep. Knees are feeling weak and I’m lying in bed.

Perfect. We’re back in sexy business.

I’d like to surprised him in the main battery, but I don’t think he’d let me. His work ethic and all. Instead, he’d be waiting for me in my cabin to return from my rounds. Sitting on the couch, wearing something _other_ than his armor. If he has casuals, they probably look like the ones I see the other Turian’s wear on the Citadel. Probably in dark blue and black to compliment his markings. And make him look like a badass. One leg crossed over the other, leaning back as he pours out two glasses from a bottle of wine on the table. He’s set the music, something with a jazz beat. Not the club music. It’s sensual. He’s up from the couch as I walk down the stairs, and rolls me into his arms. He breathes my name into my ear, and holy crap I can already feel the goose bumps.

And he gives me that look, the one that lets me know that he is fully aware of what he’s doing.

Smug ass Turian.

The warm touch of his hand guides me to the couch. I’m straddling his lap as he runs the back of his talons gently along my face, my neck and to the dip in my sweater. His other hand sliding behind my neck to massage at the skin. He mentions the wine, but it’s completely ignored. I have to repress a moan because damn, he does not need to know how good his hands feel without inflating his ego anymore.

He buries his head against my neck, licking at it so slowly with his raspy tongue. I’m pretty sure it would be rough. Not like pumice, but prickled based on the few times I’ve seen it during meals. But it’d have to be for another Turian to feel it against their leathery hides. On mine, it would probably be like beads of sand.

Hmm. The temperature in the room has gone up.

My hands would seek purchase around his neck, but nope. He’s not having any of that. He shakes them away with a smirk and another whisper to my ear. This is about me, not him. The piercing cobalt blue of his eyes causes me to shiver in delight.

And holy fuck. Garrus just because ten times hotter in my imagination.

He’s distracting me so much with his tongue, his voice, and his talons that I don’t feel his other hand unzip my sweater. And oh look. Silly me. Forgot to put a shirt on and I’ve been walking around the ship with just a bra underneath all day. Not knowing that I’d be stumbling into Garrus this evening. The sly look on my lips is something he doesn’t miss, and he chuckles; that one that goes so deep that I can’t help but smile back at him. There’s no time to think or respond with a quip. His hand is immediately kneading at my breasts, fingers tracing under the fabric of the thin clothing. I couldn’t stop the panting breath that I release.

Somehow that’s his trigger, because he stops his ministrations long enough to hoist his hands under my rear, and walk me to the bed. His tongue immediately goes back to my neck and snakes its way to my breasts. Talons dragging lightly against my prickled skin, down my waist and hips, feathering along the ridge of my pants. And because it’s Garrus, he stops to look up at me with a question in his eyes. He wants to know if it’s okay to continue, but doesn’t say a word. He knows I’ll say yes, that I would have no reason to stop him, but he does it because he’s my friend. He cares about me and doesn’t want to push me into anything I’m not willing to get into. And damnit, I just imagined the best man ever.

Of course I nod my head, and he doesn’t hesitate to unbutton and dispose the rest of my clothing, tugging my pants off slowly so his fingers can caress every inch of my skin. And it’s not lost on me that his mouth is doing amazing things to my flesh as he moves down my body. Plated mouth. I’m sure it feels rough, but those nips and licks would more than make up for the lack of flushed, meaty lips. He doesn’t linger on any one spot on my body. His hands, his tongue take control over every exposed piece of skin that he can find. I want to throw my head back and moan but I force myself to keep control. I want to see him touch me, and for him to deliciously witness what he’s doing to me.

He pulls himself up the bed to hover over me, helping me lean up by putting a hand along my back once more. The other hand caressing my inner-thighs. His forehead taps along my shoulder and I know he wants to take off my sweater. I nod once more and he steals his hand away long enough to tug it off, along with my bra. I’m surprised. I ask him how he knew to unclasp it. He rattles off a few things about his technical expertise, how he handles his rifles while his body pushes me back into the mattress, one hand flicking the nipples at my breasts, the other palming the space between my legs, and his breath on my neck. I stopped listening. He probably looked it up on the Extranet.

Garrus Vakarian. Master of taking off women’s bras.

A finger slips between my folds. Well two really since he has much bigger ones then a Human and I can’t believe how wet I am. I know I’m using my own hand right now, but I bet it could not compare to his.

His body moves in time with the slow rhythm of his hand. The coarseness of his skin massages inside at all the right spots. His thumb bushes against my clit and I shudder under his weight. The talons along my waist digging in, causing pin-points of blood to be drawn, but they only heighten the pleasure. He growls and nips gently below my jaw from the scent of my arousal. Which is clearly working. I can almost feel his member digging against my thigh.

I know it’s my other hand. Doesn’t matter. This is a fantasy.

My hips buck into his hand as the speed increases. His fingers teasing me with every jab and brush against my pearl. I’m turning into putty just from his touch. But I don’t want to release now. Not yet. I pull my hands to his neck and bring his head up from lapping away at my chest. I want to feel him. He stops his motions with an agonizingly slow twist of his fingers, before effortlessly stripping himself of his clothes. I’m panting so hard at this point that I barely pay attention to where he tosses his shirt and pants, or how he was able to do it without lifting up from the bed. But it gives me a chance to look at him. His skin is a light brown with an almost metallic grey sheen. His silver plates shined against the lights in the room. Well, light. Singular. Blue. The fish tank. It crosses over his chest, down his abdomen, and around the delicate areas of his arms and legs. I can’t help but grin seeing his manly piece, the deep blue color with ridges at the end.

It’s…thick. Really thick. I know I can stretch to accommodate, but wow.

Maybe I should stop using Fornax as my guide for naked aliens.

But right now, Garrus is stunning as he is looming over me. His mandibles flutter as he watches my eyes, seeing them as they drink in his body.

I pull him back down so our chests touch. My lips press against his scarred cheek as my legs spread and wrap around his waist. I’ve found a very convenient use for those hip spurs. He senses my need and guides himself into my body. Our gasps and moans mixing into this other-worldly sound that is beyond comprehension. When he can’t push any further, we both lie still to take in the sensations. Not as thick as I thought, but the ridges. He won’t have to do much to push me over the edge.

I wiggle my hips to let him know that I’m ready, and he complies with soft strokes. He moves in and out with such tenderness. I can tell from the way he is holding his breath that he’s ready to explode just like me. But he doesn’t. He wants to savor this.

A hand comes back to my breast, gently pinching at my nipple until I moan out his name. He likes it. Really likes it. His cock twitches inside at the next push and I press my hips hard against his own at the sensation.

He growls again and I find myself enjoying that a little too much. So I do it again. And again at every movement in.

My desire is building to its peak. I can’t hold it in for longer. I tell him that I need him. Now. And he groans as our bodies begin to writhe against one another. His other hand still at my waist, and damn if the pain didn’t feel so good. Never been a masochist, but with Garrus there’s appeal. His entire body is rigged for killing. Turians are predators. All the more exciting and passionate. My nails dig into the thick skin around his shoulders and we start grinding into each other with such fury, it’s almost maddening.

Our paces increasing.

Our breathing heavy.

Our juices joining.

Our hearts beating as one.

And I feel it. My vision turns black for just a second, but it’s long enough. And…oh.

.

..

Oh…

.

..

…

..

.

Wow.

That was intense.

I’m…I’m actually panting. Damn.

Made a mess, but wow. That was crazy. And success! I feel like I can sleep.

.

..

.

I need to clean up but I don’t want to move.

Sorry sheets. You’ll have to do and into the trash compactor you go. I’ll worry about bedding in the morning. I’m too hot to really care about it. I can defiantly sleep right now. This pillow is the softest thing I have felt in YEARS.

Thank you sexy imagination time.

And thank you Garrus.

.

..

Garrus.

…

..

Maybe I should consider really releasing stress with him.

.

..

…

Tomorrow.

Today’s mission…it’s going to be delightfully uncomfortable.


End file.
